To the Critics
Poetry answers to the critics with poetry
as nature to the wise men with nature
and a gigantic wave of indifference
rides over the roadside
sweeping the cities of the futile verse.
Other times I say:
Verses
are the wheat ears harvested
by whirling days
that catch fire and spread
over the dreamy sky.
I’m sorry
that I rather use
a dead language.
I too don’t believe in resurrection.
Yet
I passionately believe
in death.
Libros Libertad 